I Will Lay Me Down
by friskynotebook
Summary: The cold's getting to Leia's nose, but she isn't doing anything about it. Han decides to take action.


With the warmer weather comes new Han/Leia fanfic from me!

After a long H/L hiatus (I haven't written them since Christmas!), I managed to get my writing mojo back thanks to all the lovely ladies in the Discord server. I'm sure I'm forgetting people, but special thanks to ErinDarroch, JustineGraham, JainaDurron, Corellian-Smuggler, JediofGrace, Galactic-Starlight, KnightedRogue, Swimmergirl71, Zyra, FranAnubis81, and jennycbs!

This is a pre-ESB fic set on Hoth: the cold's getting to Leia's nose, but she isn't doing anything about it. Han decides to take action.

Special shout-out to HanSoloOrgana and my space twin FisherFord40 for the beta work! Thank you for making this fic the best it can possibly be—love you both!

The title comes from "Bridge Over Troubled Water" by Simon and Garfunkel. You can listen to it on YouTube.

With all that said, on with the show!

* * *

 _Sniff. Sniff. Sniff._

Leia gritted her teeth as she worked at her data station. _Why did we have to pick the coldest planet in the galaxy to set up our base?_ When other beings talked about the hells freezing over, she was now convinced they were talking about Hoth. Since they'd been here, the temperature had never gotten above -20 C—without the protective gear High Command scraped together in short order, the rebels would have surely froze to death.

 _Which is certainly what my nose is doing right now._

Leia sniffled again as she worked out coordinates on her datapad. She looked up, her eyes darting from side to side. _I don't think anyone heard me . . ._ She sighed. It seemed so minor, but the constant stream of mucus threatening to run down her face at any given moment annoyed her to no end. But it wasn't just the actual sniffling—it was the _sound_. She was a reserved person—the Alderaani are, _were_ , are reserved people. Combine that with a lifetime in the public eye as both a princess and a senator, and it's safe to say she didn't like drawing attention to herself with noises that, well, she couldn't control.

 _Sniff_. Leia thought back to her "princess lessons" when she was still in kindergarten with her father's sisters. Her aunt Rouge in particular hated anything related to bodily fluids—during a particularly bad cold, she'd gently slapped Leia's wrist whenever she sniffled or wiped her nose on the back of her hand. _"Leia, that's unbecoming of a princess!"_

After that disastrous lesson, her mother had given her a silk handkerchief embroidered with her initials. _"For when you need to clean yourself up and can't escape to a 'fresher."_ Breha had smiled at her sick daughter and used the hankie to wipe her face.

Leia had still carried it with her, though she rarely used it. No matter what she was doing or who she was with, it was something that reminded her of her parents and her heritage—their everlasting faith and love in her, and the support of her people. That was what carried her through.

The day she left Alderaan to deliver the stolen Death Star plans, she was in a rush to pack a bag. As she hastily shoved the necessities in her small nerf leather suitcase, her silk handkerchief fell on the ground. Only noticing it as she headed for her bedroom door, she sighed. _I'll just grab it when I come back—_

Leia gasped a little, the thought taking her aback. She swallowed and composed herself, focusing on her screen. Hoping her aunt Rouge wouldn't strike her down for such an act, she wiped her nose delicately on the back of her hand.

* * *

Leia threw the latest mysterious handkerchief on top of the ever-growing pile on the single chair in her quarters. _How in the seven hells do they keep showing up_? She shook her head at the language she had used. _Too much time with scoundrels_.

She sat on her bed, wracking her brain with any reason as to why these presents started showing up at her door. The majority of the rebels either respected her too much or were too afraid of her to play pranks on her. _The Rogues, maybe?_ No, this was far too easy and therefore unsatisfactory for that wild bunch.

Which left her with two options: Luke or Han. She turned over to the hankie pile and picked up a few—two were cotton, the other silk. Though Han definitely had a softer side she'd been seeing more and more of over the past year, the quality of the fabrics led her to believe Luke was the one with the special deliveries.

She tossed them back on the pile and laid down on the bed, determined to talk to him in the morning.

* * *

"Luke?" Leia slid into the seat in front of Luke's in the mess hall. As always, he was the first person in the mess, drinking his blue milk and eating his Vakiir eggs and Panna cakes.

"Morning Leia!" He grinned and took a sip of caf. "Sleep alright?"

"I did," she replied, absently tapping the pads of her fingers on the table. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, you can ask me anything!" He pushed his tray over to her, wanting to share his food with her.

Leia pushed it back. "Have you been . . . leaving me things? Outside my quarters?"

He looked taken aback. "No, not at all!"

"Are you sure? You haven't left presents for me from time to time?"

"No!" he said, squaring his shoulders slightly. "What kind of presents have you been getting? Why would someone leave things outside your quarters?"

Leia smiled at his protectiveness. "It's nothing bad," she reassured him. "Whoever it is, they've been leaving me handkerchiefs. Nice ones, actually." She started picking at her shirtsleeve. "Last night, they left me two cotton ones and a silk one."

Luke relaxed his shoulders and raised an eyebrow, looking a little like Leia herself. "Sounds like whoever's leaving those presents really cares."

She allowed herself a small smile, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. "That doesn't matter. At least not now. I just want to know who it is."

He turned back to his lukewarm breakfast. "I can put out some feelers, ask the Rogues?"

"No, don't ask them! It'll be halfway around the base by lunch," she replied, looking over her shoulder. "Just . . . keep your ears open for me?"

"Sure, Leia," he grinned, taking a bite of Panna cake.

* * *

Leia was plaiting her dark hair for bed when a loud knock interrupted her.

"Your Worshipfulness?"

She huffed, a long strand of hair floating up in the air with her breath. Even with just two words, she could already feel her defenses rising up. Grabbing a robe and throwing it on, she went to the door and opened it, crossing her arms in the doorframe.

"Yes, Captain?"

He cocked an eyebrow at her half-plaited hair. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Does it matter?" she retorted, matching his eyebrow. "What can I help you with?"

He nodded towards her quarters. "Can I come in for a sec?"

She looked at him with her large brown eyes, narrowing them slightly. _What does he want?_ After a beat, she decided he had good intentions and moved aside.

Han sauntered in, shutting the door behind him. "So a little Lantern bird told me that someone's been leavin' you presents outside your quarters."

 _Luke . . ._ Leia sighed, her back towards Han. _I swear I'm going to kill him._ She turned around, her mouth open to deflect, when she saw him holding a purple cotton handkerchief.

Her mouth was agape for a moment before she recovered. "Where . . . Where did you get that?"

"This particular one? Or the others? Because I got this one during my last mission on Trogan."

She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. _Why did it have to be him? Although . . . Is it really all that bad? I mean, he has been thinking of you, bringing you things—stop it, Organa! He's leaving, he's going away, don't get too close . . ._

Leia opened her eyes. "Why?" she finally asked.

"Because you need them," he replied simply.

Her heart sunk deeper in her chest. _Gods, why does he have to say things like that?_ "Han . . ."

"But clearly you haven't been making use of them."

His retort snapped her brain back into focus. "I didn't ask you to bring me anything."

"I know—"

"So why do you care if I use them or not?"

He gave her a look of disbelief. "Because they're something you need and for some unknown reason you aren't using any of them. I'm tryna help and something's stopping you from taking the help, and I just wanna know why, your Highnessness!"

Leia huffed through her nose, biting back a remark that rested on the tip of her tongue. _He's pushing your buttons, Organa_. "Because . . . it's not . . . princess-like!"

He gaped at her. "Not princess-like? Sweetheart, we're in the middle of a war, on a kriffing cold—"

"It's not like that! You wouldn't understand," she sighed, plopping down on her stool and plaiting her hair again.

"Try me," he challenged, placing himself where he knew she could still see him.

She set her brush down on the counter and leaned back in her chair. "I can't—It's not—" Leia clenched her teeth, annoyed with herself. "It's not that simple."

"What isn't?"

"This!" she exclaimed, waving her arms around. She let out a breath and placed her hands on her thighs, trying to put her sentences together. "You're in the cold, your nose runs, you wipe it or blow it, right?"

He frowned. "Right."

"When you're Alderaani, especially when you're Alderaani royalty, it's . . . not what you do. We're a reserved people, we don't like drawing attention to ourselves with bodily fluids or anything like that. With royalty, it's even worse. We don't show things like that to the public—not because we're ashamed, but because it's just protocol. It's in line with our culture."

Han nodded, letting her words sink in. "But Leia, we aren't on Alderaan, things are different," he replied.

She winced a little. "That's the problem. I know things are different now, but I can't—It's ingrained—It's not something we do."

He leaned against the desk in front of her. "You're afraid of letting go of Alderaan," he rumbled.

Leia's palms started sweating. "They are—were—my people," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "I owe it to them to _try_ , to not forget."

"Adapting isn't forgetting," he murmured. "No one here will think less of you for doing what you have to do."

She swallowed. "I know it seems silly—"

"It isn't," he replied automatically.

Leia glanced at the handkerchief still in his hand. "My mother gave me a silk handkerchief when I was a girl. I had a cold and my Aunt Rouge kept getting mad when I wiped my nose on my hand."

Han's eyes widened for a moment, but didn't say anything.

"It was like keeping my parents close—no matter what I was doing, how hard it was, I always had them. I knew who I was, what I represented, and I could always go back to them."

She looked up at him with her large brown eyes. "I don't know how to live without Alderaan," she confided.

His hand twitched on his thigh. "I know," he whispered.

Even though he didn't truly _know_ what it was like to lose a planet, Leia knew he was sincere—he did know how hard this was for her. She curled up into her seat. "I almost don't want to move on, because that means . . . acknowledging it's gone."

"Leia," he murmured. "Blowing your nose won't make you forget Alderaan."

She almost smirked at the absurdity of the sentence. "You think so?"

"The planet might be gone, but Alderaan still lives in you and all the other survivors. And adapting to the cold won't take away from your culture."

She rested her forehead on her knees as she listened to him. "In my head, I know you're right, but all of it still feels gone."

"Nothing's ever really gone."

She looked up at him.

"Not in your heart, at least."

He straightened up and placed the purple cotton handkerchief in her hand, quietly leaving her quarters.

* * *

The next day on base, the temperature seemed to have dropped ten degrees—certainly not the best weather for sitting at a data desk doing data analysis. After spending the last half hour staring at the same coordinates while shivering, Leia decided it was high time for a short walk around the base.

Taking the time to stretch her legs for a moment, she started at a brisk pace, finding herself walking towards the hangar. But just before she made it there, her nose started running at the same pace as her legs.

She stopped for a moment, trying to sniffle it back. Unfortunately for her, it had a mind of its own and kept going. A few more sniffles later, she realized it wasn't stopping any time soon. Leia felt around her pocket, finding the handkerchief Han had left in her hand the night before.

She felt the material for a moment, taking a deep breath. Folding it over and holding it up to her nose, she blew into the cotton softly, not caring who was around her or watching.

Meanwhile, hanging around outside the Falcon, a certain rogue smuggler spotted her out of the corner of his eye and smiled.


End file.
